


Hexed Headphones

by pillow_fort_fanatic



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, First Meetings, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Trains, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26219212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pillow_fort_fanatic/pseuds/pillow_fort_fanatic
Summary: Decaf coffee, a packed commuter train, and earbuds on the fritz. Today's going to be a doozy, and that's before Loki of Asgard shows up on the train.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	Hexed Headphones

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in an AU where you get a flash of a future memory with someone who will be important in your life the first time you come into physical contact with them. It isn’t limited to romantic relationships (so philosophers spend most of their time wondering what memories babies see when they’re held by their parents right after birth.)

My phone is ringing in my ears for the third time in the past five minutes, and I’m already sighing as I accept the call. “Hello, this is Emerie.”

“Oh. Crap.”

“You’re calling 203-555-6520. You do realize that, right?”

“I’m looking at my phone, and that’s literally not what I dialed.”

“Okay, well, you’re obviously wrong. Because this is my number. 203-555-6520. Find somebody else to harass.”

“I swear, I’m just trying to get ahold of my brother. I’m not dialing your number.”

I look around the crowded commuter for any sign of someone surreptitiously watching me. Someone’s pranking me, and I’m so over it. “Well, send him a letter or something. Because he isn’t here.” I hang up before he can respond, and for the next few minutes it seems as though maybe he got the message.

Then that darn ringing again.

“This is Emerie.”

“He literally just texted me and I hit redial.”

“Oh my–”

“Hold on. Don’t hang up yet.”

“Yeah, not gonna–”

“I’m serious. Look, are you on the commuter from Philly?”

I look around again. I’m about ready to file a restraining order. “I think you know I am.”

“Yeah, it sounds loud. My brother’s on the commuter too. Dark, oily hair; tall and thin; probably ridiculously overdressed. Is he nearby?”

With a huff, I half-stand in my seat to look around. There’s a guy matching mystery caller’s description about dozen yards away. To be honest, I’m kind of surprised I didn’t notice him sooner, because he’s totally my type. I bite my lip, then answer, “Yeah. I see him.”

“He thinks maybe he’s been hexed. Or his phone has. Or something. Could you just, like, talk to him? Or let me talk to him?”

“You want me to hand over my earbuds to some rando on the train? I’ll give you points for originality, but I’m not dumb.”

“Then just go talk to him? Please? He can make it worth your while. Look at how he dresses; you know he can. Heck, he’ll probably even buy the headphones off of you for double what you paid for them.”

“He’s right beside a door. How do I know this isn’t some scheme you two are pulling to, like, drag me off and sell me into slavery or some screwy crap like that?”

“I just want to talk to my brother!”

I weigh my options. It’s a pretty crowded train, and it’s about five minutes to the next stop since it’s Express. I probably can get someone’s attention before they can abduct me, and this guy’s ploy is just too weird. If I’m entirely honest, I’m intrigued. “Fine. What’s his name?”

“Loki.”

“What a dumb name. Hang on.”

It takes some doing to work my way over to where the handsome stranger stands, looking peeved and somehow very aristocratic, but I make it and clear my throat awkwardly. He’s got earbuds in, too, but it reminds me to take one of mine out to facilitate conversation. “Loki?”

He hears me and looks up, then takes a long moment to survey me. They guy doesn’t even try to hide what he’s doing and, somehow, it’s impossible to tell if he’s impressed or disgusted with what he observes. The movement of his hand as he pulls one earbud out is mesmerizingly graceful. “Emerie?”

Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised at his British accent, considering that the voice in my ears has one too, but somehow it catches me off guard. I swallow, because it’s sexy. Very sexy. “That’s me.”

“Mm.” He holds up his phone to show me the unmistakable in-call screen. “I think you’ve got my brother in your ear.”

It appears to be my day for overlooking obvious signs the world is giving me, because I hadn’t even thought to pull out my phone during all of this. Come to think of it, I don’t know that I thought to check to see if my roommate had brewed decaf or actual coffee this morning. No wonder my brain feels like a bowl of oatmeal. A quick check of my iPhone proves that, sure enough, I do not have any ongoing calls. A more in-depth check shows that I’ve answered five calls this morning, all from various coworkers and clients. Yet I haven’t gotten calls from anyone but this fellow’s supposed brother. I need coffee pronto.

He’s watching me process all of this, something like condescending amusement tracing the impossibly-perfect lines of his face. “Of all of them, Camille was the most confused when you weren’t the one who answered. In case you were wondering. She had prattled on for almost thirty seconds about lunch plans before I could cut in and tell her it wasn’t you she was addressing.” He pulls out the other earbud and offers the set to me. “Looks like we have the same brand.”

And color, seemingly. In fact, our headphones are identical in every way. I’d think we’d somehow switched, except that I put mine on in my kitchen before I left the house today. Lack of caffeine isn’t enough to explain today. “I…” I trail off dumbly.

“Care to just swap? Or–” he glances down at his phone, “Thor just texted saying he mentioned I might pay you for them?”

“No. I mean, yes he did, but no, no you don’t have to pay me for them. I’m fine to just swap.” Really, all I want at this point is to sit down and put my head between my knees until the world makes sense again, but of course someone has taken my seat by now. Of course. I pull the remaining earbud from my ear and hold them out to him, reaching with my other hand for the pair he offers. And that’s when it happens:

Our fingers brush each other’s just for the briefest moment, and suddenly I’m some time else.

_I have never felt a grief like this: a leaden weight that sits in my chest and numbs my limbs and extremities. It feels as though it will crush me whole, as if it is a yawning chasm that will swallow me alive and trap me forever in a place devoid of life and color. It is inescapable._

_The world around me mourns too, though I hardly notice through the emptiness of the feelings that fill me. The dark sky overhead seems to mirror my despair, and the double moons above me all but weep at our loss. I am weeping too, oceans of tears streaming unchecked down my cheeks._

_His arms have wrapped around me from behind, as though to hold my wild, broken heart secure in my chest, and I feel the tears that wet his own cheeks as he leans to kiss my temple. His arms, his breath, his heartbeat at my back anchor me to this life as a single, fiery arrow arcs up through the night._

_It lands far off on the water, but I feel it pierce my heart._

I stagger for a moment, and it has nothing to do with the rocking of the train under my feet. His hand is at my elbow in a moment, and I’m too disoriented to really process what’s happening as he procures a seat for me and presses me gently back onto the hard bench. When the present comes back into focus, he still hasn’t moved his hand from my arm. He’s crouched before me, worried eyes locked on me.

“You okay?”

All I can manage is a weak nod. I’m not, not really, but I’d very much like to pretend that I am.

“What did you see…?”

“Wh-What did you see?”

He studies me with impossibly beautiful eyes. Finally he admits, “Wedding rings. More than just a one night stand, I’m fairly certain of that.”

Sex. Of course the man saw sex. What’s the statistic: something like two in three men do?

“What if I say no?” I mutter, not really meaning it. I know it was him behind me, so there’s no denying we’ve got a future together. And while I didn’t see wedding rings, it just feels right: it’s going to take more than a simple acquaintance to keep my feet on solid ground whenever that ocean does sweep over me.

“You’ve always got the right to say no.” His voice is so even and sincere that it manages to comfort me despite the madness of it all. I wasn’t supposed to meet my husband on a commuter train, darn it.

“Grief. I saw, no, I felt, unimaginable pain.”

When he squeezes my arm gently, I find that I’m already growing accustomed to the feel of it. He wasn’t wrong; the link is really strong between us. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid that’s rather a hallmark of my life. If it were up to me, I’d never marry in hopes to spare the rest of the multiverse the experience.”

“But it isn’t up to you.”

“It would seem not.”

“Or up to me.”

“That’s your decision.”

“No, it isn’t.”

It takes a long moment before he answers, his voice soft and sad, “No. It isn’t.”

We stay there gazing at each other until the next stop, when the seat next to me clears and he moves to sit beside me. Instinctively, I move closer. It’s another few minutes before I look over at him curiously. The far off grief is retreating back to its future. _Our_ future.

“There were two moons there, wherever we were.”

“Two moons? Then there’s a good chance that we were on Asgard.” He almost smiles as he gazes down at me.

“Asgard?”

“Mmmhmm. My home world. I’m just visiting Earth on business.”

I laugh at that, but he doesn’t show any sign of appreciating his own joke. “Yeah, and I’m secretly an alien super-spy, sent to scope out humanity for any sign of weakness we can exploit in the coming invasion.”

“No…you’re not.” He looks at me with the most precious expression of confusion. “You’re Midgardian. Human.”

“Yeah. We all are.”

“I’m not.”

“Right. Because you’re visiting on business from Asgard.”

“Right.”

“Is this, like, a thing for you? Are you into role play or some weird crap like that? Is this going to be part of life in the bedroom too?”

At this, he smirks. “Already thinking about my bedroom?”

“No.” I give a little huff of annoyance. “I’m thinking that you smell really nice and you probably look rather amazing in nothing at all.” The words slip so naturally from my lips, but they’re not mine, and my eyes grow wide at the realization. I try again, “You’re just so incredibly sexy that I can hardly contain myself. Want to have sex in the bathroom?” Blushing furiously, I clap a hand over my mouth. This isn’t happening. This is NOT happening.

He leans in close and purrs in my ear, “Much as I’d love that, the point I’m trying to make is that I’m not human, and that you’re attracted to me on a very primal level. Would you like me to give you control of your speech again?”

I nod mutely.

“There. I think you can speak again without asking me to take off my clothes.”

I don’t chance it right away, but finally I dare to whisper, “How did you do that?”

“Magic. I’m quite adept at the art, and temporarily rewiring the human brain so that you give voice to your subconsciousness is a simple trick.”

“Magic. Simple. Oh.”

He has the gall to nuzzle me, and I have the audacity to not find it at all creepy. “You’ll get used to it. In time.”

“In time,” I echo as my stop is announced over the speakers.

“Dinner tonight? I’ll text you the address.”

“...Address?”

“Of the restaurant. Unless you’d rather come to my hotel?” He arches an eyebrow at me.

“Dinner. Dinner would be good.”

“Okay.” With a quick kiss on my cheek, he stands and offers me a hand. “Do try not to get yourself fired daydreaming about me, hm?”

“You,” I mutter, “are no daydream. You’re a flippin’ nightmare.”

“But I’m your nightmare.”

“Heavens have mercy.”

“Mm. They never do.”

There’s a hiss as the doors of the train open, and I join the press of people surging out into the crisp September air. The shock of the cold helps my head clear, and I find myself hoping that a few cups of coffee will put this weird interaction completely out of my mind.

I swear softly as I realize that the chump managed to steal my earbuds after all.


End file.
